


Somewhere in the Half-Light

by hollycomb



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Co-workers, Couch Sex, Denial of Feelings, Edgeplay, Hux's Robe, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: Ren makes plans to spend his rest cycle wrecking Hux's ass. Hux approves Ren's ass-wrecking request and prepares accordingly. They get nine-tenths of the way toward their shared goal when duty calls.





	Somewhere in the Half-Light

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution to the unofficial Hux's robe and ice blue sofa fest! Special thanks to [jeusus](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/) for inspiring me greatly with [this NSFW pic](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/post/164877164758).
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Kylo Ren became Snoke’s apprentice in order to learn many things, among them a method for tempering his naturally occurring arrogance into something harsher and more useful, but he still didn’t do well in the immediate aftermath of any suggestion that he might be worthless after all. So he was angry as he left the chamber where Snoke’s massive holo projection had materialized to berate him for his most recent failure. He was humiliated, seething, hot under his clothes and grinding his teeth inside his helmet, overflowing with a gnawing energy that wanted to be poured into an act of destruction. 

As had been the case for approximately the past two years of their working relationship, the first thing that came to mind was destroying Hux’s ass. 

Ren paced the halls a while before making his move, not wanting Hux to notice the rage cycling rapidly within him. Sex with Hux was always better when Ren was in full control, or at least when he appeared to be. If he went to Hux with his emotions on his sleeve, raw and spiraling, Hux would gain the upper hand and redirect the energy of their encounter. Ren didn’t need that right now. He needed to be everything Snoke had just told him he wasn’t: measured, mature, able to focus his rage purposefully rather than splattering it everywhere. 

So that there would be no mistaking the character of this forthcoming fuck, which was solidifying into a kind of battle plan in Ren’s mind, he sent Hux a comm message, still breathing heavily enough that he could hear every exhale crackling out through his vocoder. He stood in a corner of the low-traffic hallway near Flight Deck 6, feeling clumsy as he typed into his comm with gloved thumbs. 

_We need to meet. Will arrive in your rooms at 02:00. Prepare accordingly and do not keep me waiting_.

Hux’s replies never came swiftly. Today Ren was impatient, needy, and while he would never betray this to Hux he did check his comm three times before a response came, his jaw clenching a bit more with each successive glance. Finally, Hux sent back:

_Fine._

Ren went to the officers’ gym to try to burn off some energy ahead of time. The physical exercise only made him feel more agitated, Snoke’s hissed criticisms repeating on a loop in his head while he pummeled dummy targets and did a series of alternating one-armed push-ups. He was overheated, shaky with a powerful anger that would not abate, and in need of a shower, but he’d let the time get away from him and all he could do was yank his helmet back on over his sweaty hair before heading toward Hux’s quarters. 

Ren liked precision. He admired clean lines, efficiency, closure. He wasn’t naturally adept at any of these things, but he strove to be, and he embraced a disciplined aesthetic in the meantime, promptness included. He used his personal code on the door panel of Hux’s quarters at exactly 02:00. 

The fact that Hux had given him a code still made Ren uneasy. He’d preferred breaking in, but Hux was tricky when it came to acts of seeming submission that were actually power moves, and Ren suspected this was one of those. He used the code anyway, because it was easier than habitually damaging the door with the Force. He was trying to be less messy, more cognizant of practical considerations. He was twenty-seven years old, as Snoke had reminded him with a sneer just a few hours earlier, and in his _prime years_ as a warrior for the Dark. It was time to act like it, according to Snoke. Ren agreed. He tried.

Being with Hux would put him back on the right path and restore his battered confidence, at least for now. It was cathartic to tower over Hux and issue orders, to watch Hux grow flustered with pleasure as he obeyed. Ren walked through Hux’s dark front room and into the interior lounge where they customarily did their business. It was the closest thing to a comfortable space aside from Hux’s bed, which would be far too intimate. 

Ren entered what he’d come to think of as Hux’s inner sanctuary swiftly but without a sound, keeping to the shadows along the wall. At the center of the room there was a sofa with pale blue cushions, rectangular and uninviting, as sterile as a museum piece. Hux was sprawled upon it as if he was part of the exhibit, his usual black robe loosened just enough to show Ren a triangle of pale skin that seemed to glow under the single light he’d aimed at the sofa. For all his accusations about Ren, Hux could be very theatrical himself, if not exactly dramatic. 

“I know you’re there,” Hux said. Despite this, his hand remained inside his robe, working with subtle determination between his legs. “There’s no need to be coy,” he said when Ren came into the circle of light, pressing his back to the wall that faced the sofa. “You’re the one who arranged this meeting.” 

It was typically Ren who broke first and asked for sex, something that Hux loved to lord over him. This smugness didn’t bother Ren as much as it might have if he wasn’t able to read from Hux’s passing Force signature that he was hungry for it every time they so much as crossed each other’s path in a busy hallway aboard the ship. 

“Get your hand out of your ass,” Ren said, snapping this through the vocoder. He’d already decided that the mask and helmet would remain in place this time, and he could see from the change in Hux’s haughty expression that he was ready to fall in line for the sound of that harsh, insulting edge in Ren’s tone. As asked, Hux removed his hand from the robe. Two of the fingers on his right hand were slick with a clear lubricant. Hux’s energy had been somewhat distracted when Ren arrived, but now he had Hux’s full attention.

Ren stood in silence and appraised Hux, letting him wait. Hux had a proud, defiant countenance even now, after dutifully preparing his ass for Ren’s cock. Ren liked this about their arrangement. He liked that he never had to feel sorry for Hux. They had honed their sexual symbiosis over the years and they both got exactly what they needed from it. 

“Show me,” Ren said. From within the mask it sounded and felt like an insult. 

Hux sighed with what Ren chose to interpret as relief and untied the belt on his robe. The robe was a kind of costume for their ritual at this point, though maybe Hux wore it in his private leisure time, too. He didn’t like to let Ren see him taking off his uniform, half-dressed, or in any kind of authentic state of vulnerability. And yet he parted his long, pale legs for Ren now, lifted his feet up onto the sofa cushions and tilted his hips to show Ren that his hole was pinked and glistening, ready for him. 

Ren wasn’t even close to giving Hux the satisfaction of attention there. He huffed at the sight of Hux’s cock, which was also pink, stiff and almost fully hard against his belly. 

“You were getting off on preparing yourself for me,” Ren said. 

“I amused myself until you arrived.” 

“By playing with your hole?”

“Obviously.” 

Hux clenched for him, or perhaps involuntarily, his bent knees flinching. His hands were still wrapped around the ends of the robe’s open belt, tightly but not quite white-knuckled yet.

Ren swallowed inside the mask, careful to keep it inaudible. “Did you even touch your cock?”

Hux shrugged one shoulder, the flush on his cheeks deepening. Hilariously, he was embarrassed by his erections. Even during sex. He had no qualms about flashing his ass at Ren when it was wide open, dripping come or in any other state of debauched use, but evidence that he was aroused by any of this filled him with a blushy shame that they both got off on.

Ren’s dick was getting hard, too, but he had arranged his coverings so that nothing would be revealed. He could at least somewhat understand why it was embarrassing to expose how affected he became even at the very start of these meetings. As far as Hux was concerned, Ren was a motionless, disaffected shadow who barked orders from just out of reach with a hint of disgust. Hux liked it that way. 

“Touch yourself,” Ren said, and then, sharply: “No,” when Hux reached down to tickle at his rim with his slick fingertips. “Your dick,” Ren said, anticipating the irritated twitch of Hux’s lips that came with receiving this command. “I’ll take care of that slutty hole when I’m ready. Stroke your prick for me. And get those thighs open wider.” 

Hux’s nose wrinkled slightly as he let his legs spill fully open. Behind the hanging folds of his own more dignified robe, Ren’s cock throbbed. Hux was delectable like this, with the dark, heavy fabric of the robe pooled around him as he revealed so much pale skin, soft all over with the exception of his erection and tiny peaked nipples. Hux squirmed with something like protest when he grasped his cock, as if it was so beneath him to do this at all, let alone with Ren as his silent audience. Hux always went wild for it when Ren deigned to touch him there, especially if Ren used his mouth. It was something about doing the touching himself that made him descend into squirmy, shameful pleasure that lanced at him even as it made his cock dribble pre-come while Ren watched. Ren could sort of understand it. He’d been taught not to do anything nice for himself, too. That it was a kind of failure to give in.

“Slower,” Ren said once he was confident that he could pronounce the word through his vocoder without sounding breathy and hot across his chest. “Rub your thumb over the tip. Yeah. Get the head wet.” 

Hux huffed as if there was something ridiculous about this command, but he did as Ren asked, swirling his thumb around until the head of his cock was shiny, sticky. Under the cover of the mask, Ren licked his lips. He loved cleaning pre-come off of Hux’s dick with his tongue. Hux didn’t need to know how much he loved this, however. Ren was careful to dole out praise at the right time and the right pace. That was what Hux got off on more than anything: being sneered at, dismissed, and then, when he was close, told suddenly and sweetly that he was good, so good.

This arrangement helped with Ren’s own needed development of balance. He wanted to devour Hux already, to tear his too-hot coverings off and fall onto him, shove into that lube-smeared hole and hear Hux scream encouragement for the sudden intrusion, but that would spoil things. It was always better to wait. 

“You’re dribbling steadily now,” Ren said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall as if he was bored. “You must have been neglecting yourself of late.”

“It’s called prioritizing. Working.” Hux’s voice was still unburdened by a shake or a gasp; he was good at this, too, without needing a helmet to hide behind. 

“Hmm. You might call it that. I’d call it being a stubborn, pathetic sycophant who can’t take proper care of himself. Spread it down onto the shaft,” Ren said before Hux could try to return the insult; this wasn’t one of those evenings. 

“I do have lube on hand,” Hux said, rubbing his pre-come downward with one thumb. It made sticky trails but didn’t do much in terms of actual lubrication.

“You can marinate in your own seed,” Ren said.

Hux laughed in one derisive snort. His flush also deepened, and Ren detected the faintest shudder in his shoulders, something small that Ren would have missed if he wasn’t so in tune with the Force or so familiar with Hux’s micro-responses. The shiver and the flush were both good signs, as was the fact that Hux’s cock was less pink now, more red. 

“Are you going to come?” Ren asked, teasing. Hux hated coming in his own hand while Ren watched. He felt it was ‘a waste.’ “You look so ready.” 

“I don’t-- I’m not-- Come here.” 

“Think you can give me orders? That’s cute. We’re not on the bridge, General. I’m not one of your quivering underlings.” 

“They don’t quiver.” 

“They do when I’m breathing down the backs of their necks. Kinda like you.” 

Hux glared. It wasn’t true that he shrank from Ren while on duty, or at any other time. This was different. If Hux shivered on his sofa, with his legs and his robe open for Ren’s viewing pleasure, it wasn’t out of fear. 

“Better tell me what you need,” Ren said. “If it’s not just to come all over yourself while I watch.”

A visible tremor moved through Hux as he absorbed this, the kind of accusation of wanton neediness that made his blood boil and his cock throb. He released himself, without permission, and flexed his hips up, inviting Ren to just come at him. It was tempting, but Hux wouldn’t know it from how Ren remained against the wall as if he was unimpressed, not even offering a further insult. Sometimes Ren thought: what if Hux could use the Force? It was a little thrilling to imagine it, but mostly horrifying. Hux would have the galaxy crushed in his palm already if he could read minds. He came disturbingly close to mind-reading even with no powers. 

“I suspect you know what I need,” Hux said, teeth grit. Sometimes Ren also thought: what if Hux just bit his nose off one day? It seemed like a real danger of getting too close, and Ren had considered that it was one reason he felt safer leaving the mask on when they fucked. He’d been having dreams about Hux’s sharp teeth for years. Half the time they were sex dreams that made him cream his sheets. Otherwise they were nightmares. That was the essential balance of Hux in his life. 

“I’m waiting,” Ren said. “Ask for what you want or use your own hands. You were doing well enough when I came in. Enjoying yourself, seemed like.” 

Hux huffed, fists clenching and then uncurling over the fabric of his robe. Ren knew what he was thinking without needing to use the Force: if only, if only he could satisfy himself with his own hands. How much easier his life would be. Ren had similar thoughts. In some sense, mounting up on Hux when he needed to vent his frustration was a failure. Someday the great Kylo Ren would be more self-contained. He would be Vader-esque, entirely finished with other people. Just not yet.

“I didn’t invite you here for the conversation,” Hux said. “I was thinking you’d fuck me.” 

“You were thinking you’d graciously allow me to fuck you. As a gift, from you to me.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“Say it, then.” 

“Get over here and fuck me.” 

“Trying to give orders again. A slow learner after all.” 

There was nothing Hux liked less than any insinuation that he was not a brilliant, singular genius. He snarled at Ren, who grinned inside the mask. 

“I would like you to fuck me,” Hux said, biting every word out like he wanted to infuse it with poison. “I’ve prepared for it, as you can see.” 

Hux reached down and spread the softest interior flesh of his ass cheeks to show Ren his hole even more deliberately. His face was burning and his cock was very hard. Ren skimmed over Hux’s Force energy in a kind of gloating act of confirmation that he was enjoying this and was nearly knocked over by crashing waves of desperation mixed with angry arousal, all this along with something very soft and pleading that made Ren’s mouth water inside his helmet. That secret, smallest ingredient in the recipe that was Hux reliably drove Ren crazy, in part because he was almost sure he was the only person who’d ever glimpsed it. No one who was less adept at using the Force would have been able to sniff it out, and even the most powerful Force wielder who’d ever drawn breath would probably have missed it if they weren’t also fucking Hux on a regular basis.  

“Stick your smallest finger in,” Ren said. “That’s all you get for now. You’re being difficult.” 

Hux rolled his eyes but did as instructed. Ren watched Hux’s throat bob as he slid his little finger easily into his worked-on hole, fresh pre-come beating on the head of Hux’s cock when he moved his finger in and out uncertainly. Ren was now leaking, too, but his dark leggings would reveal nothing in this light, even if he moved his robe aside to show Hux what he was longing for: the bulge of the cock that was occupying the room with Hux but not occupying Hux the way he wanted it to. 

“How does that feel,” Ren asked, careful to sound bored now rather than taunting. It was a delicate tightrope walk all the way to the other side of this thing, where Hux would come screaming Ren’s name for the slightest whisper of praise. 

“Frustrating,” Hux said, feeding Ren the word he thought Ren wanted to hear. He was massaging his bent knuckle around his rim, making it a little puffier, a bit pinker. 

Ren licked his lips inside the mask and just watched for a while, telling himself that he was testing Hux’s patience and not merely mesmerized by the sight of what Hux was doing to himself. Ren had always been attracted to both men and women but had never been so taken in by simple human anatomy as he was by the way Hux’s slim thighs looked when they were spread open like this, showing that secret, tiny way in that Ren had pounded with his cock hundreds of times now but which still seemed untouchable somehow, or like it should be, even as Ren watched Hux rubbing it open wider for him, one feeble pass of his finger at a time. 

“Are you awake inside that thing?” Hux finally barked, breaking before Ren for once. 

“Yes,” Ren said. 

“And? I’m getting a cramp in my wrist, do something to entertain me or get out.” 

“I suppose I will leave, since you’re determined to keep giving me orders you know I won’t follow.” 

“Please,” Hux said. He whined and arched, tossing his head over the back of the sofa. He was pulling out all the stops now, as if Ren had never seen this act before. “Please, Ren, damn you, at least-- Can I put another in? Please?”

Now this was good, this was progress. Ren’s dick throbbed against his leggings so powerfully that he almost abandoned his battle plan and grabbed for it, but he was able to keep still except for a slight tilt of his head. 

“One more,” Ren said. “Touch your prostate.” He liked it when Hux’s stomach clenched and his eyes pinched shut, the way he shook all over as he tried to hold his noises in. 

Hux exhaled as he slid another finger into himself, and he seemed to hold his breath when he made contact with his prostate. He chewed his bottom lip and flashed Ren a look that somehow managed to seem like a threat. Ren smiled. He was sweating terribly inside his heavy clothes; keeping the helmet on during sex always made him overheat. But it was worth it to hide his reactions while he catalogued Hux’s every twitch and half-swallowed gasp. 

“Again,” Ren said, because he could see that Hux was going easy on himself, mostly stimulating his rim rather than teasing at his prostate.

“Ren,” Hux said, grinding his name out but still making it sound like a plea. Hux’s eyes fell shut and he left them closed as he shook his head. “Please, if I-- I’ll come, just-- I want, ah. Make me come any way you want, but. Don’t make me do it myself.” 

Ren sighed, now deliberately loud enough to vocalize it through the mask. It came out sounding cracked with annoyance, perfectly pitched. “You’re lucky I’m merciful,” he said, brushing his robe aside. 

He moved toward Hux and took out his cock, careful to scrape away the evidence of his pooled precome with his sleeve as he unleashed himself. Hux was staring, his lips parted, legs still open, fingertips slipping from his hole as Ren approached. Hux looked edible, and also like he was never designed to be touched, only to be on agonized display. Ren had to stop in place and stroke himself. He squeezed hard at the base of his dick, pretending that he was getting himself fully hard rather than quelling the urge to come all over Hux’s upturned face as soon as he got in range. 

“You can suck on it until you’ve got yourself back under control,” Ren said, stepping close enough for Hux to breathe onto his cockhead. Hux looked grateful, overcome, and it was only partly an act: he blinked slowly and nodded, eyes muggy as he stared up at Ren’s mask. Sometimes he asked Ren to remove the helmet, but usually he didn’t bother. Ren always refused. 

Hux could be teased like this, too: Ren let Hux take him into his mouth, but not for long before he pulled out and pressed his tip to Hux’s wet lips just to slide his wet shaft against the corner of Hux’s mouth and along his cheek. Hux fought feebly to get Ren’s cock back into his mouth, eyes closed in what the Force told Ren was authentic ecstasy as he lapped at Ren’s shaft with his tongue, his face getting sloppy with his own spittle and Ren’s pre-come as this went on and on. 

When Ren finally caught a soft, broken whine from the back of Hux’s throat as his cock slid against Hux’s cheek instead of back into his mouth, he could take no more himself. He was pounding in his own grip as he guided himself in and out of Hux’s mouth in slow, random intervals, his other hand tight in Hux’s hair. At some point Ren had lost the ability to keep his breath from rattling audibly through the vocoder, but he doubted Hux had noticed. Hux was pretty gone, his mouth hanging open as he stared up at Ren, head tilted back while he waited for Ren to hand down his fate. Once, Ren had left Hux like this, both of them on fire for it and Hux close enough to breaking that he’d sounded like he might cry when he asked where Ren was going. It had been fucking unreal the next time Ren had him, in an angry rut that got them both off so hard it felt like the ship was shaking around them, like they’d set off a contained explosion. Ren told himself the interruption tactic was worth the ultimate payoff, but as of yet hadn’t managed to walk out like that again. It wasn’t easy.

“Please,” Hux said, as if he could see through the mask and knew that Ren was thinking about that experiment. Maybe Hux was remembering it, too; he looked like he was afraid Ren might stomp off like that now. “Ren. I need it, I--” 

“Lie back,” Ren said, drawing his gloved fingertips across Hux’s cheek. He told himself it was a mocking gesture. “Knees to your shoulders.” 

Hux assumed the position, stretching out lengthwise on the sofa so that Ren would have room to climb on top of him. Even when Hux had folded himself in half, his legs trembling as he held them flush against his chest, feet in the air, Ren could barely fit on the sofa. It was slim and compact like Hux, with minimal padding. 

There was little of Hux’s prickliness left once he’d lapped at Ren’s cock like it was a salt lick: he moaned when Ren stuck two gloved fingers inside him and clenched up around the intrusion like he was giving Ren’s touch a warm embrace to welcome it home. Or perhaps that was being dramatic; Ren cleared his throat inside his helmet, feeling somewhat dizzy but still determined to leave the mask on while he fucked Hux, for the full duration, though sweat was rolling from his hairline and stinging at his eyes. 

“Oh, yes,” Hux said, rolling his hips down when Ren grazed his prostate. “Yes, there, oh--” 

“Be still,” Ren snapped, not wanting to lose the carefully developed mood just yet. “Let me feel you. You lack patience.” He heard himself sounding like a Jedi and bit the tip of his tongue in self-recrimination. 

“Patience?” Hux’s eyes flashed, the haze of lust that had zombie-fied him blinking away. It always amazed Ren that Hux could sink so deeply into this and still yank himself out of it so fast. “Only someone with the, the-- _ah_ , with the utmost patience could withstand you.” 

“You think you’re good at this?” Ren crooked his fingers and watched Hux’s shoulders tense, his hands flexing over the untied robe as he tried to press down for more. “You’re good at weathering my attentions? Especially qualified at opening your legs for me?”

“ _Nnn_ ,” was all Hux could manage in reply, his eyes shut and mouth open as Ren flicked over his prostate again and again, just short of giving him enough pressure. Whatever Hux thought about his qualifications, Ren was confident that he was the best in all the galaxy at handling Hux, at knowing him inside and out and knowing exactly what to do with that information. 

“Because you look a little overwhelmed,” Ren said, reaching up to rub at one of Hux’s nipples while he continued to finger Hux too gently, too slowly. 

Hux moaned and turned his head to the side on the sofa cushions. He had squeezed two handfuls of his robe into his palms and was grinding down onto Ren’s hand, trying to find better friction. His chest seemed to open for Ren’s hand in a kind of begging surrender, shoulders going back as if he could feel more of Ren’s cold, gloved touch this way. 

“How long were you at it before I showed up?” Ren asked. He drew his fingers out so that his knuckles were holding Hux’s rim open, dragged them in circles there until Hux moaned again and tried to hump Ren’s other arm. Ren removed his hand from Hux’s chest so he’d have no hope of contact against his cock. “Hmm?” he said, because it was a real question. “How much time do you give yourself to get ready for me? How long does it take?”

“I don’t know.” Hux threw one arm over his face and wiggled his hips down, whining a little. “It’s not that fucking precise.” 

“Like hell. Everything is precise with you.” 

This made Hux smile, for some reason, his arm still covering his eyes. Ren jammed his fingers back in and went at Hux’s prostate hard, to get that grin off his face. Hux screamed and nodded, fucking himself down onto Ren’s hand with abandon that almost managed to shock Ren, even after all he’d seen. Hux was breathless and shaking when Ren relented, staring down over his chest with bleary, begging eyes. 

“Fuh, fuck,” Hux said when Ren sat back and observed him, rubbing idly at Hux's loosened rim without pushing back inside. “Don’t you want, ah-- Aren’t _you_ ready, at last?”

“I’m not like you,” Ren said.

Hux grunted, something guarded coming into his eyes. “What am I like.”

“A fiery ball of need, always burning.” 

Now Hux laughed, not just his customary snort but a bouncing, unhinged laughter that made him look authentically happy, delighting in Ren’s humiliation. Ren felt his face flush hotter inside his mask. He stayed motionless, crouched over Hux with two lube-wet fingertips pressed just over the clenching heat of Hux’s hole. 

“You can torture me all you like,” Hux said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “But please don’t employ poetry. Or whatever that was.” 

“You want torture?” Ren sat back and took his cock in his hand. He stroked it a few times, allowing Hux to stare. “I’ll show you torture, General.” 

“Will you.” 

“You’ll be begging. Crying.” 

“All right. Let’s have it, then.” 

Ren spread Hux’s thighs open wider with two hands, knowing that it must ache at least a little at this angle, one of Hux’s legs propped on the sofa cushions and the other hanging mostly over the side. Hux made no protest, only stared up at Ren like he was ready for whatever came next. All the mirth had drained from his eyes, but he did seem entertained. Interested, at least. Ren was looking forward to breaking Hux down to his most essential self: the sobbing wretch who tried to clutch at Ren’s shoulders while Ren thrust him to pieces. 

Ren was aching to be inside Hux, to get to that wild thrusting, but he could wait. He was the one who was good at this, not Hux. He took himself in hand and touched just the tip of his cock to Hux’s waiting, wanting hole. Hux exhaled and watched, his chest jittering when Ren rubbed against him again, smearing his pre-come on Hux’s rim and not pushing inside. 

This went on for a while, both of them breathing hard and pretending they were fine with it. Ren could feel Hux’s energy screaming for more, but Hux kept that need off his tongue. Ren had expected as much. He smirked inside his mask when he pressed in a little, just barely, only enough to hold Hux open around the tip of his cockhead. Hux moaned and twitched around him like he was trying to swallow him up, squirming. Ren brought his fingertips down to Hux’s flagging erection and stroked him to full hardness again. 

Hux licked his lips and watched Ren’s hand moving on him. He was already trembling, mostly in his legs but a bit in his shoulders, too. His cock jumped in Ren’s hand and he licked his lips again. “You really think this is going to break me?” he asked when he flicked his gaze up to Ren’s mask.

“Yes.” 

“Is it begging that you want?”

“Not exactly.” 

“Oh, crying, right. Well, if you want to waste your entire evening-- ah, _yes_ \--”

Hux arched up into Ren’s grip when Ren gave his cock a real pull, pumping him from base to tip before releasing him. There was a faint moan as Hux recovered, but no glint of tears in his eyes, just a choppy sigh. 

By the time Ren had worked his full cockhead into Hux, very slowly, Hux was whining in spurts, trying to make it sound more like complaining than begging. His hips stuttered now and then, a not-subtle attempt to get Ren just a bit deeper into him. Ren’s balls were so heavy they felt like they would fall off, but he was enjoying this, even as he sweltered inside his clothing and chewed his lips inside the helmet, fighting the urge to just shove in and trying not to imagine the volume of Hux’s satisfied shout, how hoarse and deep Hux’s wrecked voice would get when he moaned in relief and melted into a boneless thing beneath Ren’s body. 

“Oh, fuck, please,” Hux said when Ren slid in another inch or so, his hands on Hux’s shaking thighs. “Yes, Ren, _please_ , just--” 

“You need it deep, don’t you?”

“Fuh, yes--” 

“And hard.” 

“Ren-- Yes, you bastard, _yes_.” 

Ren raised his eyebrows inside the mask and considered a comment about bastards. He decided against it and slid back out again, slowly. Hux groaned and threw his head back, grabbed for his hair with both hands. 

“I’ll do it myself,” Hux said, glaring at Ren when his eyes snapped open. They weren’t quite watery yet but definitely not clear. “I’ll fuck-- Fuck myself on you, how’s that?” 

“Shhh.” Ren stroked Hux’s trembling belly and pulled almost fully out of him before stopping, just the tip of his dick resting on Hux’s clenching, desperate hole. “I can do it. And you can take it, right? Without crying, you said.”

“Ren!” Hux whimpered a little and rubbed his palms into his eyes. “Please?”

“Maybe if you tell me why you need it.” 

Hux groaned and punched the back of the sofa, glowering. He was sweating, red from his cheeks to his chest. He’d pulled both of his arms free from the robe’s sleeves and was lying upon it like it was a skin he’d shed. 

“Please, Ren.” Hux took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his flushed chest. Trying to look cute. “You know, I just-- It, ah. It feels so good when you-- When you’re in me. Really in me, please.” 

“Why, Hux.” 

“Because you have a huge cock!” Hux said so with jaw-clenched rage, and Ren was sure that, if he’d been leaning over Hux just then, unmasked, Hux would have indeed bitten his nose clean off.  

“You could get a fake one just like it,” Ren said. He pulled his cock free and spanked Hux’s hole with the head, still too softly. He grinned inside his mask when Hux whimpered again, writhing. “Or bigger, even. They make ‘em huge, in certain markets. So I don’t follow. There’s got to be something else to it, if you need this one so badly.” 

“Please, please.” Hux’s voice was small. His hands covered his face and he shook his head as if he was having a silent argument with himself. “Ren.” 

“Yes?”

“Ren, please, I need it--” 

“Why, though?”

“Because you do it better than anyone else ever has, you fucking monster!” Hux pulled his hands from his face and showed Ren what he’d wanted, his prize: dewy tears of frustration clinging to Hux’s pretty eyelashes as he glared at Ren like he wanted him dead almost as much as he wanted Ren’s dick in him. “All right? There, I’ve said it, now, now please--” 

The noise Hux made when Ren finally slid all the way into him, without stopping, was like a rush of tingling relief over every inch of Ren’s sweat-damp skin, or maybe that was just the feeling of Hux’s tight heat sucking him in. Hux was mindless after that guttural exclamation of what could only be called gratitude, babbling and pulling at Ren’s clothes, trying to keep him close, his hips stuttering up in an attempt to get Ren deeper, even when Ren was buried to the hilt. 

“There, Hux,” Ren said, his voice choppy through the vocoder as he tried not to come from the pulsating relief that he felt, too, and the way Hux gasped and pawed at him like he wanted to pull Ren fully into his chest. “That’s good,” Ren said, though it probably wasn’t time for praise yet. Hux shivered and seemed like he wanted to slobber against Ren’s mask, but didn’t. He wasn’t that gone yet.

“Nhnn, please,” Hux said, dropping down onto the arm of the sofa with Ren’s robe still clutched in his hand. He sobbed and nodded when Ren pulled back slowly only to shunt back in with one hard, shallow thrust. “Yes,” Hux said, still nodding. He was so sweaty; Ren wanted to lick it up and bent his head to do so before he remembered the mask. “Please, yes, oh, Ren--” 

When Hux started saying his name over and over, Ren knew he had him. Which was maybe a ridiculous distinction when he was balls-deep in Hux anyway, when Hux was already begging, his legs wrapping around the backs of Ren’s thighs to keep him in place, squeezing with every thrust like he wanted to add his own power to every snap of Ren’s hips. Ren felt dizzy again; he wanted the helmet off. Maybe now it didn’t matter. He tried to sit back to remove it and Hux cried out like he would die if Ren peeled off him now. He held Ren down and clenched up hard around his dick, his breath so hot against Ren’s covered face that it fogged up his helmet’s visor. 

“You feel good, General,” Ren said. He fucked Hux in slow, shallow drags, because Hux wouldn’t let him get far enough away to allow for anything else. “So good. Tight for me.” 

Hux had lost his ability to form words but managed to wrench his wet eyes open so he could stare up at Ren with the same adoring, brainless look he always gave when he heard praise during sex. Possibly he’d have given it when he got any sort of praise, but Ren had never offered any when he wasn’t on top of Hux, after breaking him down so that he’d need it just that much more than he usually did.

Ren gave Hux one hard snap of his hips, then another. Hux absorbed every inward thrust with keening approval, his fingers questing for the ends of Ren’s hair that just barely protruded from the back of his helmet. Hux’s seeming need to touch some organic part of him beyond his cock made Ren afraid he would come already, too soon, and at the first blaring emergency signal that blasted from Hux’s comm he actually thought he had, that he was hearing his own orgasm rather than the highest level of alert from the bridge. 

Hux shoved Ren out of him and off of him with the same intensity he’d just employed to keep Ren close, only this was cold and decisive rather than feral. Ren again thought he would come when his cock popped out of Hux, but he didn’t. He nearly fell over as Hux bolted out from beneath him and into his bedroom, the sight of Hux’s gaping ass in retreat almost enough to unsteady Ren again. 

But Ren knew what this meant just as well as Hux did: they were needed on the bridge, immediately. The ship was under attack. Ren tucked himself into his leggings, wincing and watching the bedroom doorway. Hux was scrambling into his uniform. 

“I’ll meet you on the bridge,” Ren called, disliking the fact that he hadn’t entirely regained his breath yet. 

“Yes.” Hux’s voice was clipped; the slight shake lingering from their fuck made him sound panicked, though Ren didn’t sense that he was. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.” 

It took a few long strides down the hall outside of Hux’s room before Ren’s now painfully contained erection began to flag. The angry blare of the sirens calling for all hands on deck helped snap him back to reality, but his legs were still shaking and he felt like he was moving in slow motion even as he raced toward the bridge, shoving officers and stormtroopers aside where necessary.  

He’d gathered himself by the time he reached the bridge, and the commander who’d been on duty when the attack began had only just stepped away from the central missile console to brief him when Hux strode onto the bridge. He’d left his greatcoat and hat behind but otherwise looked as usual: focused, annoyed, ready to work. 

“It’s the Baxa militia, sir,” the commander said, speaking to Hux. She looked relieved to be addressing the General and not Kylo Ren. “As we feared, they had undisclosed cloaking technology--” 

The hull was rocked by fire and everyone stumbled sideways. A lieutenant at the radar station fell out of his chair and then scrambled back into it. Nothing showed up on the monitors; the Baxa ships were still cloaked and the entire comm station was scrambling to find the source of their cloaking mechanism and blast it. They were also trying and mostly failing to appear calm while doing so, because they had noticed Hux was on the bridge now. 

“Have they communicated with us at all?” Hux asked. “Made a demand?”

“No, sir. They might have realized we underpaid even before the transaction. These attacks come from sophisticated weapons systems that they hid from us when we negotiated.” 

Ren had seen and heard enough. He’d had a bad feeling about these arms dealers and Snoke had dismissed it because they needed the payload. Snoke had also dismissed Hux’s suggestion that they pay a fair price, unlike most of their more hostile weapons negotiations, which were sometimes more like violent takeovers. Part of Snoke’s diatribe for Ren earlier had involved this matter, in fact; Snoke accused him of thinking like a politician, of being small-minded and fearful of conflict. It wasn’t true. Snoke misunderstood some things. Ren wasn’t afraid of anything.

“I’m taking my ship out,” Ren said, already moving away. He wasn’t asking permission and normally wouldn’t even have announced his intentions in a situation like this, against an enemy fleet that was slippery but small in scale. The Order’s reputation as a growing power in the galaxy was still underplayed intentionally, to their own advantage; the Baxa were insane to go against them but could still take out valuable TIE fighters like the ones being sent out to fire on still-invisible targets.

“Wait a moment, Ren,” Hux said. 

“No. I can take care of this.” 

Ren had no time to turn back and see whatever expression Hux had on, or even to read his energy from across the bridge as he left, headed for the docking bay where he kept his personal ship. He commanded the officer on console duty in the bay to call the other TIEs back in; there was no need for anyone but him to fight this battle, with the enemy still cloaked.

Slipping into the cockpit of his Silencer still gave him a thrill, every time. He tried not to compare it to his father’s feelings about the _Falcon_ ; this was different. Hux had designed the ship’s particular modifications himself, before he and Ren had even met, and had made maintaining control of it so delicate, to complement its deadly potential, that it was virtually impossible for anyone but the most mythically talented pilot to fly. Its pilot needed near-supernatural instincts and fearless fluidity. The design wasn’t even approved for production until Ren joined the Order and its potential came to life under his hands. 

Taking it out infused him with adrenaline that made him feel inhuman. He was beyond human in this ship, better, a kind of machine and pure Force-energy hybrid. Flying had always made him feel closer to the Force, fully a part of its flow as his craft moved through space, and closer to the Dark side when he fired on enemy ships and felt the lifeforce of the other pilot flame out in spectacular agony. Something about flying his Silencer increased this sensation tenfold. Something about this ship made him feel _understood_. 

He’d never given Hux a second glance until he found out that he was its designer. This was before Hux’s promotions, long before the General’s greatcoat was slipped over his slim shoulders. Hux was even skinnier back then, also more transparent in his sniveling ambitions, but no less confident. He had been proud when he looked up into Ren’s mask, then having never seen what was beneath it, to tell him he’d designed this ship himself and that he thought it was perfectly viable for production, so long as it was piloted by the right, peerlessly precise hands. 

Hux had been unafraid. He’d acted as if Ren was the one who had something to prove in daring to inquire about the design. Ren was obsessed with getting under Hux’s uniform from then on. Hux had seemed suddenly to have a kind of glow. It was something to do with the Force, surely. More to do with the perfection of the ship than the person who’d dreamed it to life, probably. 

Ren moved through the space around their destroyer with the easy grace that his partnership with the Silencer allowed: its wicked tricks and his mastery of them had never been bested in battle. He used the Force to locate the cloaked ships and took them out one at a time with minimal ammunition spend. His Silencer was extremely efficient when it came to destruction, even more so than the standard models, enhanced as it was by the hand of Hux. After seven Baxa fighters had been blown to bits, Ren sensed he was the only pilot still alive in the airspace around the destroyer. This was almost enough to get him hard again; he’d gotten hard in this particular cockpit before. 

With the danger eliminated, Ren returned to the bridge. Hux was bent over a console when he arrived, typing something. He didn’t notice Ren’s return until Ren came to stand just beside him, trying to see what he was typing, why Hux would ever personally let his fingers fly on a console when he could have ordered someone else to do this work. Hux glanced over at Ren before turning back to the monitor he was working on. Ren saw lines of some massive code scrolling across the monitor and realized what was going on: Hux was trying to crack the cloaking system the Baxa pilots had used even now, with their ships all blown to bits. 

“Well done,” Hux said from the corner of his mouth. Presumably he was speaking to Ren, who didn’t deign to use the Force to confirm this praise was for him. “Commander Luce,” Hux said, straightening. “Fire on their base. There’s no need for a planetary raid. I’ve uploaded their tech remotely.” 

“With functionality, sir?” Luce asked, hesitating. 

Hux gave her a look that was icy enough to put out a console fire. “Yes,” he said. “Of course. Blast what’s left of them, we’ve got everything useful now.” 

Hux demonstrated how he’d untangled the mechanism that had bounced off their ship in order to cloak the ships that broadcast the signal while attacking. Rather than sitting in the chair the lead transmissions officer had vacated, he bent over the console as he worked, pointing to things on the screen while the tech nodded nervously and seemed to want to offer his empty chair, though he didn’t even dare that. Ren wondered if Hux’s bending was for his benefit, since he was putting his ass on display in the process, but realized it wasn’t as Hux continued his explanation, becoming uncharacteristically animated when he jabbed his finger at the screen like it was a criminal he had caught in the act. Hux was so absorbed in the thrill of stealing the Baxa’s ship-cloaking tech that he’d forgotten to worry about how he looked while he did so. 

Good, Ren thought, and he almost wanted to say so. Hux looked good like this. 

Hux straightened into his customary posture when he gave instructions about what should be done with the stolen tech and the damaged standard TIEs that had returned to the ship at Ren’s command. Ren considered leaving. He had done his job, and the minutia of the bridge bored him when they weren’t under fire. He went on watching Hux anyway, waiting for Hux to turn and look to see if Ren was still there. When Hux did, his hopeful wave of expectation was like something he’d intentionally sent in Ren’s direction, and it washed over Ren like praise. Ren almost smiled inside his helmet, though surely Hux was just wondering if he was still going to get fucked. 

They left the bridge together without discussion and walked through the halls without speaking. Hux hadn’t taken the time to put gel in his hair before bolting for the bridge behind Ren, and one piece kept escaping his attempts to press it back, hanging in a little swoop over his forehead. Ren thought of using the Force to keep it in place for Hux, but Hux probably wouldn’t even realize that was what was happening if he did. Also it was a stupid idea. Ren sometimes felt giddy with residual adrenaline after piloting the Silencer, like a kid. He strove to suppress it.

“Well, we warned him,” Hux said when they’d nearly reached his quarters. 

“Who?”

“Snoke! About the Baxa.” Hux glanced over at Ren and swallowed. The flush was returning to his cheeks, which meant he was thinking about sex. “You had the same sense about them that I did.”

“Yes.” 

“So.” Hux swallowed again. His energy had become jittery. Needy. “He can’t say that was our fault.” 

“He won’t,” Ren said, though there were no guarantees when it came to how Snoke judged things. Snoke possessed a kind of ancient wisdom; he saw the many sides of everything. Ren sought to understand.

“A night cap, then?” Hux said, squaring his shoulders and turning toward Ren, who nodded once and followed Hux into his quarters, already getting hard. 

When the door slid shut behind them, Ren realized he’d lost sight of his battle plan. In all the excitement he hadn’t had a moment to consider how best to continue when he was alone with Hux again. He could recapture the mood, but it would take time, and he felt too charged-up with flying, fighting energy to be patient or calculated, or quiet. He watched Hux walk to the recessed bar on the far wall, where he displayed a few sleek bottles of expensive liquor. Hux turned from the bar without selecting anything and exhaled through his nose, that piece of hair tumbling over his forehead again.

“Take that fucking thing off and come here,” Hux said. 

Ren tore his helmet off without thinking, glad to be free of it, and only as he crossed the room toward Hux did he realize he was obeying orders, going against what he’d promised not to do. So he would have to surprise Hux now. He dropped his helmet onto the floor and grabbed Hux’s face with both hands, tilted it up and kissed hard him on the mouth, sighing into it when Hux opened for him. Hux was still so ready; his mouth was wet, eager and sloppy. He grabbed Ren’s ass and squeezed it as they stumbled back against the wall, Hux’s shoulder crashing into one of the liquor bottles on the bar’s highest shelf. 

“Careful,” Hux said, though the bottle hadn’t broken and he had a look on his face like the last thing he wanted was for Ren to be careful. 

Ren licked into Hux’s mouth again and picked him up entirely, moving over to spare the bar. He pressed Hux to the unadorned wall beside it, groaned and humped against the writhing seat of Hux’s ass when Hux’s legs wrapped around his back. Hux’s neck tasted like the sweat that had dried there earlier, and Ren wanted to take a bite, wanted to chew him and swallow him while he fucked him, too. He felt himself drooling against Hux’s skin when he thought of how Hux’s ass would still be ready, and that lube must have pooled into his breeches while he strode across the bridge issuing orders. 

“Ow, ah!” Hux winced when Ren pulled back to see what was wrong. “My neck,” Hux said, releasing Ren’s hair so he could rub it. “I shouldn’t have typed on that console, like that. It just seemed wrong to sit, and they were fucking it all up, I had do it myself--”

“Sorry,” Ren said, lifting Hux away from the wall. 

“Don’t stop,” Hux said, his legs tightening around Ren’s waist. He pressed his face to Ren’s and grabbed Ren’s hair again, tugged. “Just. Maybe the sofa. Or the bed.” 

Ren eyed the sofa as he carried Hux toward it, then past it. The robe was still there, spread out where they’d left it, but Ren didn’t want to continue the game they’d been playing. He just wanted Hux hard and fast and now, and the way Hux kissed him as Ren carried him into the bedroom seemed to confirm he wanted that, too. 

They scrambled to undress each other as soon as Hux’s back hit the bed, Ren kneeling over him and tugging at the fastenings on Hux’s uniform tunic while Hux yanked at Ren’s robe. Between the tangle of their uncoordinated limbs and their determination to continue kissing while this went on, little was actually accomplished aside from exposing Hux’s bare chest. He hadn’t bothered with an undershirt. Ren flung his robe off himself when Hux struggled to dislodge its arcane catchings, and when it was gone he let Hux pull off his gloves. Hux’s hands were already bare, and had been on the bridge when he shoved a lieutenant aside to unravel the cloaking tech. Remembering it sent a rush of warmth down through Ren’s chest, as if some share of the accomplishment was his own, and he supposed it was. He brought one of Hux’s hands to his lips, kissed his palm and licked his pale, delicate wrist. 

“Here,” Hux said, red-faced now and tearing his pants open. “Please, just--” 

“I know,” Ren said. He wasn’t going to make Hux ask for it again. He took his dick out and tried to remember where they’d left the lube. 

“Don’t need anything,” Hux said, shoving his pants down. “I’m still-- I’m wet, Ren, I’m ready--”

“Yes.” Ren spoke as if he’d known that; of course he had. He used the Force to rip Hux’s boots off so that he’d be able to get his pants down. There was too much power in the gesture and Hux almost went flying off the bed along with his boots, but Ren caught him under his arms and held him in place. Hux laughed, cursed under his breath, and dragged Ren down for a kiss. 

“That was impressive,” Hux said when Ren pulled free. The boots had hit the opposite wall, one striking each side of the bedroom doorway.

“Thanks.” Ren reached between Hux’s legs. They both groaned when he felt his way in, confirming that Hux was still open for him, slick and tender from where they’d left off. 

“I meant--” Hux gasped when Ren pulled his fingers free a little too quickly. “Earlier, I-- What you did, in the Silencer.” 

Just hearing the ship’s name made Ren’s cock throb, and he felt blood rushing past his ears, an infusion of reckless purpose making him almost lightheaded with the need to be contained, to pour all his thrumming energy into something. Only Hux would do, and Ren kept his eyes open and locked on Hux’s as he pushed inside, watching the way Hux’s pupils fattened as he was filled. 

Ren wasted no time and didn’t bother with words. He pulled back and slammed back in again, fucked into Hux hard and fast. Hux nodded wildly and grabbed at Ren, his knees pressed up high against Ren’s sides while Ren pummeled into him. Ren wouldn’t last long, and Hux was already trembling like he might come, already shouting Ren’s name every time the head of Ren’s cock grazed his prostate. Ren angled Hux’s hips so that the blistering pleasure wouldn’t let up and growled with approval when Hux reached down to grab his own cock and pump it madly, arching and squeezing up tight around Ren’s dick, everything in him coiling so close to release that Ren could feel it, too, like a vibration across his own skin. 

Hux finished first, spurting over his own fist with a cry that was almost mournful, as if he was sorry that it was over so soon. Ren smeared his hand through Hux’s come and rubbed it onto Hux’s stiff nipples, growing unhinged as he rushed up against his own edge. Hux was pulsing around him with aftershocks of orgasm, breathing hard and flushed all over. Ren thought about Hux on the bridge, bent over that console, everyone standing at nervous attention around him and waiting for orders. He thought about the day he told Hux that he’d ordered the modified Silencer design to production, that he could handle it, and the way Hux had looked at him: defiant and smug, as if he knew better, but with an edge of hopeful expectation. As if he’d been waiting for someone who really could.

Ren came with a groan and collapsed fully into the relief of it, onto Hux, letting all of his weight spill down as his muscles slackened and shook. Hux had gone still and soft beneath him, his legs flopped wide open on the mattress, chest shuddering as he tried to regain his breath. He pushed his hand across Ren’s back and laughed. 

“What?” Ren said, his voice muffled against Hux’s shoulder.

“You’re so sweaty.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I just did all the work.” 

Ren pulled out with a groan and rolled onto his back, rubbed his hands over his eyes. He’d spent what would have been his rest cycle fucking Hux and blowing up Baxa ships, then fucking Hux again. His legs felt both leaden and boneless. There was a heaviness to his eyelids that felt right, like a call to sleep that he should answer. 

Beside him, Hux shifted and sighed. Ren heard the rustle of fabric as Hux stripped off his uniform tunic entirely. He thought he heard Hux struggling to free himself from the left leg of his breeches, which had clung to Hux’s ankle while Ren fucked him. The last conscious thought Ren managed before sleep was that he’d like to roll over and suck the dried come off of Hux’s nipples, where Ren’s thumbs had smeared it, but he fell asleep before he could enact this plan.

He woke alone and still partially dressed, his cock flopped out onto his pushed-down leggings in a somewhat ridiculous fashion. In the adjoining fresher, he could hear Hux showering under real water. Steam billowed in the open doorway, and Ren blinked at it sleepily, trying to recall the dream he’d just been having. It was something about flying inside Hux, only Hux was the ship, but the ship had a voice and a soul and it criticized Ren’s flight strategy. 

Ren sat up. His head felt too light, but his body had recovered in a way that made him feel cleansed, just light enough. He stretched and considered leaving while Hux was in the shower. It was probably what Hux wanted: the ideal end to a successful cycle, personal and professional needs fully met. 

Without stopping to think about why, Ren pulled off his outer tunic, pushed down his suspenders, peeled his undershirt away from his still-damp skin. He pushed his leggings down, yanked off his boots. All of it went into a pile with his robe, which was pooled on the floor at the end of Hux’s bed. 

He pretended to be asleep when Hux finished in the fresher and reentered the room, but couldn’t keep up the facade when he peeked through his eyelashes and saw that Hux was wearing his black robe. Ren huffed a little laugh at the sight, though he wasn’t sure why it was funny. Hux paused in the fresher doorway and stared at him, rubbing a towel through his hair. 

“What?” Ren said, flexing. He knew he looked good like this: prone, scarred, massive. 

“Nothing,” Hux said. “I just so rarely see you without a stitch of clothing on.” 

“Enjoy it while you can.” 

“Ha.” Hux hung his towel up and Ren waited for him to shrug off the robe, too, but he didn’t. He got into the bed still wearing it, consulted the comm that was charging on his nightstand, then rolled toward Ren without meeting his eyes. He had left the light on in the fresher, and it fell across the bed with a kind of voyeuristic illumination. Hux surveyed Ren’s body with shameless interest, first with his gaze and then his fingertips, brushing them so softly over Ren’s spent cock that it didn’t seem like he was even trying to tease. It was more of a scientific inquiry. Possibly he’d never seen it soft before, but for a glimpse before Ren tucked it away.

Hux smelled like shaving cream. Ren thought of touching Hux’s freshly shaved cheeks; his skin looked dewy in this light. Something had made him afraid to move, however. As if he had attracted a wild animal in a sacred meadow, a creature who might be easily spooked away.

“You really saved our asses today,” Hux said, still without meeting Ren’s eyes. “The damage could have been-- Obviously I would have cracked their cloaking method anyway, but in the meantime, well. That ability you have to see invisible things really does come in handy.” 

Ren felt something welling up in him: a billowing thunderhead, dangerous power. Whatever it was, he couldn’t control it. He was too tired to see whatever invisible traps Hux might be setting.

“You know me and asses,” Ren said, deflecting in the way that Han Solo would have: make a joke, retreat while they laugh. “I’m always doing stuff for them, around here.” 

Hux made a disapproving sound but smiled a little. When he finally met Ren’s eyes, it felt like another kind of praise. 

Now Ren was certain this was part of some nefarious grand scheme Hux had devised, because all of a sudden he could barely keep a poisonous influx of nonsense out of his mouth, like you’re beautiful, you’re perfect, I want to live inside the things you make and also inside you. Idiocy, but it also felt too real, in the way that unseen weapons did at the moment they were revealed. The praise Ren usually offered Hux always felt like part of their game, mostly backhanded compliments about how prettily Hux melted for him. But now, in this light--

“What?” Hux asked, his brow creasing, because Ren was staring at him without blinking.

“Nothing.” 

Hux rolled away from Ren, facing the open fresher door as he seemed to settle in for sleep. What if Hux could use the Force, Ren thought. Would he have mercy on Ren in his wielding of it? Probably not. Ren pressed himself to the curve of Hux’s back even so, and buried his face against Hux’s shoulder. In all their meetings, Ren had never noted the robe’s texture before. Possibly he’d never even touched it. It was nice: finely made but not especially soft, tightly woven and thick, though not so thick that Ren couldn’t feel the heat of Hux’s skin seeping through the fabric, warm against his face. He grinned and felt his confidence returning: of course, of course-- Ren had secret weapons, too. He could find the heat of Hux through so many layers, could work his way in past any armor Hux wore.

 

**


End file.
